


between the shadow and the mind

by witchertrashbag (intothegarbagechute)



Series: Yenskel [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: F/M, Multi, Past Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29451948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intothegarbagechute/pseuds/witchertrashbag
Summary: A sequel tothe heat that bends us, binds usbecause Yenskel didn't leave my brain and now I love them.Yennefer told Geralt--showedGeralt what happened between them. And tonight, Geralt has a cuckolding kink he'd like to try out, and because Geralt is an expert at clear communication, he makes this very clear to everyone and there are no hiccups or misunderstandings at all.
Relationships: Eskel/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Yenskel [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163291
Comments: 17
Kudos: 52





	between the shadow and the mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inber](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inber/gifts).



> **content warnings:** Eskel and Yennefer explicitly refer to Geralt as Eskel's brother; they are not blood-brothers but brothers-in-arms as in Witcher canon; it's incest kink-y, and if that's not for you, I don't recommend you read on. 
> 
> A lot of detailed dscription of cunnilingus/labiae/etc. Some description of body hair. Pegging, rope bondage, canon-level attention to nipples. Missionary. Consensual mind-reading. Alcohol mention.

“What’s this about, wolf?” Eskel asked, hoisting his swords off his shoulder as he took a seat in the corner table across from Geralt.

His heartbeat was almost half a beat faster than usual. He knew Geralt would notice.

“Scorpion was so fidgety coming here, I let him gallop the last two miles,” he lied. He saw Geralt register the lie, too. He looked stony, even— fuck, he looked pained.

“Geralt, I’m so sorry,” he said, leaning forward. “Please forgive me. I didn’t—. I swear I didn’t touch her, not like that. Not that I didn’t want to. Fuck, I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do,” Geralt said, and Eskel now saw his lips were pressed tightly together. He looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“Fuck you! I’m trying to apologize for—“

“I know what you did. She showed me.”

“She—. Fuck.” Eskel looked at his thick hands, still covered in gloves. He took them off, and Geralt pushed a mug of something— white gull, his nose detected— into his hands.

“Just to take the edge off,” Geralt said with a smirk. And then the smirk died down again, and he was back to business.

“If you don’t want to ever see me again, I’d understand,” Eskel said.

“Just drink?”

Pained, Eskel did as he was told, taking a long draw. Geralt waited until he had swallowed before speaking again.

“Yen thinks… that is… we… would love to have you for dinner tonight,” Geralt finished in a tumble, and _was he blushing? Was that blushing he was doing?_ Must’ve been a sunburn.

Eskel took another long drink. And said yes.

—

He arrived five minutes early with a bottle of wine. He’d almost brought flowers, but then he wasn’t sure what kind of flowers Yennefer would like, or what was fancy enough, and then didn’t want it to seem like he was bringing flowers for his brother’s basically wife who he had masturbated in front of. So wine. He didn’t really know much about wine, but the vinter had said a lot of very fancy words about this one, and it cost nearly all the coin he had on him, so he figured that was good enough. Just knowing Yen was in town, he was very careful to keep his mental guards up.

Geralt opened the door, and Yennefer took the bottle from him instantly.

“Well, a Châteuxnyx 1253. _Very_ good year, as I recall.”

“I told you, he has good taste,” Geralt said, closing the door behind him. The room suddenly felt extremely warm, stuffy, and he felt like he wasn’t wearing the right things. He only had his usual gambeson and trousers, hadn’t stopped for anything else, and—

“As I recall this vineyard burned down four years later. Still hasn’t recovered,” she said, eyeing him. “Are you sure you want to spoil me?”

Fuck. She swayed slightly in the candlelight, clad in her usual black, her feet bare. He realized her dress was actually made of silky-looking ropes. As they moved with her, they revealed brief, teasing flashes of her thighs, her bare hips…all the way up to where they secured to her waist with a leather girdle, but below it… He snapped his eyes up to hers.

“Not like it’ll affect either of us, anyway,” Geralt said, taking the bottle and uncorking it. He slowly poured it into a crystal decanter on the table, then into a wide goblet. “Maybe he’s trying to get you drunk.” He handed the goblet to Yen with a smirk.

Eskel’s mouth drifted open. He had no idea what to say. Yen drank from the goblet, savoring the flavor, then kissed Geralt so he could taste it on her lips.

“Geralt, I said I’m sorry. Do you both mean to torment me all evening?” he asked.

They turned to look at him, and Eskel suddenly felt very much like prey.

“Let’s eat,” Yen said, her smile full of teeth.

—

Eskel ate in silence, actually _very_ much enjoying the roast peacock, despite how completely ridiculous it was to eat a peacock. He was almost angry at how wonderful it tasted. He snacked on the bird’s devilled egg and tried not to watch Yen and Geralt smirking and kissing and gently touching each other as though he wasn’t there at all.

Suddenly, Yen gave Geralt a very sharp look.

“You’re fucking kidding me. You—? Of course.”

Her entire demeanor changed; she sat straight in her seat and looked at him, gently.

_Eskel?_ He felt, pressed into his mind, like a gentle knock on the door. He cracked it open.

_I showed him what we did. He’s not upset, he…_ “I thought—“ she continued aloud, “I sent Geralt to ask you, before you came here. We’d like you to join us. If you want.”

“Join you…?” he asked, his eyes fluttering with the effort to close that door, to not let her see the hope, the arousal it spiked in him. For a moment he completely forgot Geralt could smell it anyway.

“You don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to. But Geralt would like you to watch us,” Yen continued, and Eskel’s eyes flicked to Geralt now, who was studying the intricacies of his potato. He could sense the heat coming from him, the thick, heady scent of him slowly enveloping him like it hadn’t since they were much, much younger.

“He has something to tell you,” Yen said, grinning, and she drained her goblet.

Eskel licked his lips. “Okay.”

—

Eskel let Yen lead him into her boudoir and settle him in an armchair by the fire. The room was already roasting, and in his trousers and gambeson, by the fire… that was definitely the reason he was sweating.

Geralt followed her after, his smirking confidence from before transformed into something else entirely. He dropped to his knees before her, head down, simply waiting. Eskel had the sudden sense that he would wait like this all night, if she wanted him to, and tried not to think about how that made his cock twitch.

But she sashayed away from the fire, letting the ropes of her dress swing as she walked, revealing her bare and very lovely ass. Geralt inhaled her scent as she traced her hand around him, leaning into her touch. It looked like they’d done this dozens, maybe hundreds of times.

Yen took his chin in her hand, then lifted her thigh over his shoulder. She moved the ropes hanging before her cunt aside and pressed herself to Geralt’s mouth. Exactly as she’d shown to Eskel, but now Geralt was in his place. His rightful place.

Eskel looked up and found Yen’s eyes on him, felt her asking to come in once more. He let her, and— _fuck_ — he _felt_ it, felt his brother’s tongue pressing against her, felt her pleasure build incredibly. Eskel gasped at the sensation, though Yen stayed silent.

He felt her thread her fingers through Geralt’s hair and something tightened in his chest. Felt Geralt’s hand grip her ass, felt his stomach swoop as Geralt stood, hoisting Yen into the air, until he found a wall and pressed her up and against it. He felt his brother’s fingers press into her, heard her reedy whine as she thrust against him, needing, as always, _everything_. And Geralt gave it to her. He teased, he stroked, pressing his fingers into her expertly, curling and brushing against her as he sucked, hard, on her clit.

Yen’s eyes stayed on Eskel’s as she came with a delicious, wrenching moan that filled the room. She panted as Geralt kept going, his other hand squeezing her ass hard. Eskel felt her slide her fingers between the ropes on her bodice to expose and pinch her nipple roughly, felt Geralt take her over the edge again, felt the lazy, blissful heat of the aftermath, as he slowly brought Yen down into his arms.

He looked down and realized he’d cum in his braies at some point. The sensation of it was just… so overwhelming. He recognized the loose bliss on Yen’s face as she steadied herself on her feet, the carefully-placed ropes askew and revealing her in delicious little peeks that had Eskel flustered again.

He watched his brother take his place on his knees again, open and waiting for whatever came next. Yen caught her breath and strode to a chest behind Geralt, where he couldn’t see her. She kept her eyes on Eskel and took a leather harness out, stepping into it and securing it under her gown around her waist. Eskel quirked an eyebrow, unsure what was coming next. But he felt the arousal wafting off of Geralt, knew he was hearing what Eskel was seeing, and his pulse ticked up at whatever it was.

Yen pulled two phalluses from the chest, one in each hand, and considered them, watching Eskel closely as she did so, as though she was considering bottles of wine.

_Would you like to choose?_ he heard softly, inside his mind. His eyes widened at the thought. _Out loud, please._

He cleared his throat, and saw Geralt straighten. He had the feeling that what he was about to do was terribly important, so he considered the options carefully. In her right hand: one made of stone. Longer than the other, but slimmer and pale, and familiar somehow? Which was a weird thing to think about a phallus? In her left: one made of smooth, polished wood. It looked tantalizing in her thin fingers. As thick as her slender wrists, and more than she could fit in both fists, and even more… it just seemed _right._

“That one,” he said, nodding slightly at the one in her left hand.

Geralt whimpered.

Yennefer grinned widely, her eyes suddenly open, joyful, and it burned something in his chest. She set the stone phallus back in the trunk, then turned to Eskel and swept the ropes hanging between her legs aside. He watched as she carefully fixed the phallus to her harness, whispered a few words, and swore he could see it _move._

He watched, eyes wide, as she returned to Geralt, standing behind him.

“Geralt,” she said softly. “You can take these things off now and get on the bed, hands and knees.” She kissed his forehead and he rose, quickly unfastening his clothing, slipping his shirt over his head, revealing his broad shoulders, the coiling power along his back.

Eskel didn’t even realize for a moment that Yennefer had settled in the armchair beside his and was softly stroking the phallus, sighing softly into her own touch. She could _feel_ with that thing, and she watched him as she worked.

He saw Geralt bent over, removing his braies, his eyes darting between the two of them. Geralt got onto the bed, obediently on his hands and knees, facing the fire— facing him— and Eskel could see his cock hanging heavy. He licked his lips.

_Would you like to feel it?_ Yen asked.

“What? No? I…”

“Very well,” she said, and sauntered to Geralt, finally letting him drink her in. Eskel heard him gasp as he caught sight of her.

“He chose the new one, Geralt,” she said. He came to his elbows, bringing his mouth close to her phallus, and looked up at her. She shifted her hips slightly, letting him work his lips over the tip, and moaned in pleasure. She watched Eskel, delighted.

Geralt whined and licked, asking for more. Eskel had…never seen him like this. His eyes were dark with desire, his movements so sure. Not like when they had…, back then. Everything then was quick and secret and hungry. This was langorous. Comfortable. Like he’d suckle this phallus for ages if she let him.

“Please,” Geralt begged. “Please, Yen.”

Yen took his chin in her little hand and raised him back to his hands. She kissed him softly, and Eskel had the distinct feeling something was passing unspoken between them. Geralt groaned and straightened his back.

Eskel watched her kneel on the bed behind Geralt and removed a toy from his ass, and somehow only then realized what was about to happen, as Yennefer held his gaze and very slowly fucked into his brother.

His cock jumped beneath his hand at the delicious moan Geralt let out at the feeling, at the needy little noises he made begging for more, and he hadn’t even realized he was palming at himself, hadn’t realized he was even hard again, so soon. Eskel froze, watching Yen fuck Geralt thoroughly. Entranced by the red flush over Geralt’s pale face, his dizzied look of concentration. At the lusty vigor of Yen’s thrusts, the joyful, breathy sounds she made, the way her breasts swayed as she rolled her hips.

Eskel drank it all in; still a little baffled at how he ended up _here_ , but—

Then Geralt’s breath got shorter, he started letting out little curses— Eskel could see Yen’s hand on his cock, letting him thrust into her, heard her whisper—

“He’s watching you, Geralt. He’s watching you while you feel him.” And that’s when Eskel realized exactly what had been so familiar about that phallus.

“ _Fuck,_ Eskel,” he said, his voice high and breathy and _so vulnerable,_ and he looked right into Eskel’s eyes as he came with a desperate moan. Yen kept fucking him through it but came again shortly after, then reached forward and tickled his nipples, collapsing them into a giggly pile on the damp bed as she slipped out with a filthy wet _pop_.

Geralt growled and turned around to kiss Yen deeply, a wordless thanks.

Eskel watched, holding his breath. Desperately hard, his braies already sticky from before, he suddenly became intensely aware of himself. He had no idea what to do now; he wished he could just _disappear_ somehow, and why wasn’t there some kind of sign that made you invisible so he could slip away? That would be very helpful.

_You’re thinking very loudly_ , Yennefer pressed into his mind, and he found her violet eyes staring at him.

“Sorry,” he choked out, his own voice suddenly foreign to him, his tongue thick in his mouth. It felt thicker as Geralt turned to look at him, something like awe on his face.

“I’ll just, ahh…” Eskel said, getting to his feet, his cock shifting uncomfortably in his codpiece.

In an instant Yen swept from the bed, unfastened the phallus and tossed it into the trunk. Her skin was glistening, her eyes bright, her perfume heady and thick in the stifling room as she stepped toward him. He was suddenly very aware of just how dangerous she could be.

“Will you stay?” she asked, light as a breeze.

“For…?” he asked, and his eyes flicked to Geralt as his brother rose from the bed, at his long muscles straightening and flexing as he sank to his knees again behind Yennefer.

“He’s had enough for tonight. But he… thought we could get to know each other better,” Yennefer said, and he saw Geralt’s gaze hit the floor, smelled a fresh wave of arousal waft from him. He glanced up at Yen and found her studying him softly, waiting. She did not enter his mind this time, but swayed on her bare feet. “Only if you want.”

Eskel let himself drink her in, her bright eyes, bare feet, the soft hair that brushed up her legs. The nipple peeking from behind a soft rope. He licked his lips before he realized what he was doing.

“There’s something I want,” she said, her gaze determined. Eskel felt the heat thrill through him again. She reached beneath the ropes covering her belly and unbuckled the harness, letting it drop to her feet. She stepped out, backing away, and unfastened the girdle at her waist.

He inhaled sharply. The soft black ropes slid from her shoulders, instantly revealing the soft folds of her body to him, the dark dusting of curls between her legs. He swallowed hard and saw her eyes, sharp and bright, realized she held one of the ropes in her hand. He stood, frozen, as she approached Geralt, still waiting patiently on his knees. With a flick of her wrist, the rope carefully curled around his torso, another around his legs, binding them securely together.

_That won’t hold him_ , Eskel thought quickly, and Yen turned and smiled at him in pleasant surprise.

_He won’t break free_.

And wasn’t that something. Geralt seemed perfectly content to stay on his knees, bound and naked and waiting and— _fuck_ , and quite fucked out, his eyes now pleasantly dazed at the tension holding him, the thick scent of him wafting off even more strongly.

Eskel’s eyes ticked up to Yennefer as she lounged back over the bed on her elbows, watching him. Watching them both.

“Undress for me,” she ordered softly. His hand flew to a clasp before he really registered what he was doing, and he heard her chuckle gently. “Very good.”

Heat flashed over Eskel’s neck, but he kept going. He wasn’t sure how far this would go, how far they wanted it to go, how far _he_ wanted it to go, but… he settled piece after piece of armor on the chair before hunching over to have at his boots. These, too, he let awkwardly fall to the floor, could practically feel Geralt’s focus on him, though he could not see him from where he stood. He stepped closer as he removed his gambeson, then his shirt, until he was standing beside his brother in his trousers and braies, his hands on the bows of his codpiece.

Geralt didn’t move, didn’t take his dazed eyes from the floor. On the bed, Yennefer bent a knee and set her foot up on the mattress, exposing herself, casually and fully. Her eyebrow crooked, asking if he would meet her challenge.

He let his codpiece fall to the floor, then the rest of his clothes, finally revealing just how hard he was already. She grinned and brought a hand to her cunt.

“No,” he choked out, and she cocked her head.

“No…?”

“Please,” he said, licking his lips once more. “Can I…?”

Yen smiled and shifted her hips to the edge of the bed, letting her legs fall open. Eskel came to his knees, feeling Geralt behind him, wondering if he was watching, if his eyes were still obediently on the floor. He glanced up at Yen, who traced a finger across his forehead, tucking his hair out of his face.

“Geralt, you were right. Your brother does have good taste.” Geralt let out a soft little choked-out sound, and Eskel looked at her in awe. He wrapped his thick fingers around the backs of her knees and she shivered. She looked at him, eyes wide.

“Do that again.”

He obeyed, then brushed his thumbs along her inner thighs, and she gasped.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” she said, sucking in a breath. “You tingle.”

He chuckled. “Never heard that one before.” And he delighted in the way she shivered again as he brushed his hands across her thighs, parting her lips with his fingers. Her cunt was dusky pink and glistening with slick, the scent of her sweet and musky and heady. He slowly drew a thick finger around her labia, avoiding her clit, enjoying watching her struggle not to move beneath his touch. He found her eyes, found her working to remain impassive, and his cock throbbed at the challenge.

“Please,” he asked, his fingertip still slowly circling. “Can I taste you?”

Her gaze became sharp; she pushed her fingers into his hair, then grabbed hold and pulled him to her.

He pressed his tongue flat against her and moaned at the taste— then heard her echo the sound in a high, breathy sound. Behind him, he could hear Geralt let out a very soft whimper. Eskel smirked and softly drew his tongue the way his finger had, just getting her attention. He felt her thighs clasp beside his head, felt how needy she was, how demanding. He hummed, flicking his tongue lightly over her clit, and enjoyed the choked-out gasp she made. He did it again, and so did she. He kept up the slow, teasing pace, working her up until her legs were trembling and her moans were uneven, pleading little noises. He pressed against her harder, then sucked softly on her clit, and hummed again. He brushed a hand up her body, then pinched her nipple roughly just as he pressed again, and delighted as she came, breathlessly and loudly, her cunt pulsing against him.

Before she had quite ridden it out, he pressed two thick fingers into her, curled them inside of her, and pressed his tongue hard against her clit, moaning. She screamed as she came again, clenching around him, cursing and sobbing, her fingernails digging into his scalp as she held him there. He pressed and pinched and held her there through wave after wave of pleasure— her mind was so overwhelmed with the pleasure he could feel it himself, was sure Geralt could feel it behind them.

When he finally let go, when her fingers released him, he sat back on his heels as she caught her breath and realized he’d cum again on the floor from the sheer force of it. He glanced at Geralt and saw he’d done the same, had the look of a dog who’d done something wrong and was awaiting punishment.

Eskel lightly brushed his fingers along Yen’s skin, making her shiver again, and gently shifted her up the bed, laying down beside her on her right. He wiped her slick from his face with the back of a hand, then glanced over at her.

Her eyes were hazy with pleasure; she looked like she could finally drift off to a blissful sleep. He felt so satisfied, so pleased, so startled at the evening’s events as he lay beside her, gazing into her eyes.

This woman was addictive, and he would be grateful for the rest of his life for this one small taste.

“So you tingle everywhere,” she said, her voice deep and breathy and curious. He glanced and found she was rolling to her side to face him, her lovely dark curls falling across her collarbones.

“Uh.”

“With chaos,” she explained, softly. “That’s what they call it, where I learnt…”

He found he couldn’t bring himself to move, didn’t know if he wanted to. He was like a little insect caught in her web, and suddenly understood Geralt’s reaction to the rope.

Her expression settled, and she said, “I think you should fuck me.”

His eyes flashed, heat swooping in his belly, his cock stirring again.

“I want you to fuck me,” she murmured, reaching out a hand to stroke a small finger up his side and he shivered.

_He wants you to fuck me, too_ , Eskel felt, pressed gently into his mind by hers, and he groaned softly. He could smell Geralt, thick and hot, still kneeling silently, facing the bed. Geralt hadn’t even done this with her tonight. Had he been waiting? Wanting Eskel to take his basically wife in front of him? To cuckold him like this?

Her mouth twisted into a devilish grin. “What do you think? Should we let your brother watch?”

“Fuck,” he said, thoughtlessly palming at himself, already half-hard.

Her little fingers traced their way down across the tender flesh of his hip and grasped his cock confidently as he drew his hand away.

Geralt made a strained noise from the floor, and she smirked.

_Are you okay? Is this… do you want this?_

“Yes,” he said softly, and her wrist curled as her fingers glid over the tip of his cock, using his wetness to slick the way down.

_Like this?_ She pressed an image into his mind, of her all on all-fours on the bed, her gorgeous tits hanging, and him fucking into her hard from behind, the perfect reverse of her position with Geralt earlier, and now Geralt bound before them, eyes cast down onto the floor.

_Yeah, okay._ He groaned and pulled away from her hand, his cock fully hard from all the… everything.

She grinned and got to her hands and knees facing Geralt as he shuffled across the bed behind her. He couldn’t help it; she was bent and arching her back for him, presenting herself to him. He couldn’t help it. He palmed at her lovely ass and she moaned as he spread her cheeks apart, gazing at her again, the soft hair that dusted up and around her little asshole, her cunt still red and so, so wet. He laid a kiss to it and she shivered. He eased two fingers in, letting her prepare, when—

“Don’t. Just fuck me.”

Well. He held her hip with one hand, grabbed his cock with the other, and pressed the sensitive tip to her wetness. He almost moaned at the feeling of that alone.

"I said, fuck me."

He chuckled. _My, we are bossy._ Then thrust inside of her with one slow push until his balls brushed against her cunt. She let out a high moan that made his cock twitch within her as she fell to her elbows at the sensation.

“ _Oh, fuck_.”

“You like that, do you?” he said, slowly pulling nearly all the way out, before thrusting in again, a little faster, a little sharper.

“Oh _, fuck,_ Eskel _—_ “ and she moaned on his cock like the finest whore in Novigrad. He figured she was playing it up, but it still made him flush and thrust a little harder.

_“Oh, oh,_ fuck _, fuck—_ your _cock—_ it feels _so—“_ she stopped to moan eagerly, “you’re so much _bigger_ than your brother, _fuck._ ”

There it was. He was just part of this fantasy for them. A very special evening. The simple truth of it… something sank in his stomach. If this was his role, he knew exactly how to play it. The ravaging beast was his most popular request, after all. It had been enough for him before and it could be again.

He grunted and began to set a faster pace, really letting Yen bounce on his cock, making her squeal from the friction. He quickly drew a hand up her side and brought her off her elbows and up, then brushed his thick fingers across a nipple. She gasped out a shocked little moan.

“You like that, do you?” he repeated— this role generally didn’t have many more lines, and he was never very good with them anyway.

“ _Fuck, yes, Eskel_ ,” she moaned, and he pinched her nipple roughly, tweaking and then pushing her body up towards his. He slid his other hand down to her cunt, pressed his finger right at her core, and began to fuck into her more slowly, holding her like this. He felt her tense, and—

_Is this okay?_ he asked.

_Yeah— yes. Keep going, fuck._

“Then I think Geralt should see you come on my cock, don’t you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” she breathed. “Geralt, _fuck_ , I’m so close—“

Eskel kissed along her shoulders hungrily, making low, deep noises as he thrust into her, filling her. He drew a palm up her belly, as though he could feel himself within her, and looked down at Geralt.

He was flushed and red, his cock hard and leaking, his mouth set in a firm line. Staring at them, his face desperate and overwhelmed.

Eskel palmed at Yen’s perfect fucking breast with one hand, then drew his other palm back down and pressed a thick finger against her clit. Yen moaned; he couldn’t tell where she was looking. He pressed faster and faster against her, the palm on her breast teasing her nipple between his fingers as she rode his cock.

“ _Harder, fuck—“_

He pinched her nipple and clit and she came with a raw scream again— this time he was ready. He shielded his mind, shielded himself from her pleasure, just felt her clench around him, felt the warmth of her in his arms, held her to her orgasm and fucked her through it slowly, until she was gasping—

Suddenly he was hyperaware of how much he was holding her and loosened his grip, supporting her but making sure she was in control, knowing that he would move away at the merest touch. She released herself, collapsing on her stomach on the bed with a deep sigh, and he let himself slide out of her, his cock wet with her slick.

Now that she was there, now that Geralt was watching her; now that it was over, he felt…

He found she had turned and was gazing up at him, those fucking violet eyes creased with worry.

_Eskel_ , she pressed gently into his mind. _Are you…? “You didn’t come,” she said aloud, staring at his cock._

_I’m fine, I’m—_

_What do you want?_ she asked in his mind, and then _Oh god, are you—?_

“I wanted this, I want— _you_ ,” he said, feeling his tongue heavy in his mouth, his eyes flicking to Geralt, to her, around this damned sweltering room, to everything he _very much wanted_ that still felt like it was somehow crumbling away, like a dream too good to last.

She rose to her knees and kissed him, and then he couldn’t think of anything else but her mouth, and her hands slowly stroking along his jaw.

_You want—?_

For a moment, just a moment, he let himself think of it. Of her laying on her back, her dark curls splayed across the bed. Of him holding her legs, thrusting into her. Of the soft jiggle of her breasts, the soft _Oh_ of her mouth.

It was too much to ask.

“Yes,” she said. He opened his eyes and she was on her back, easing a pillow under her hips. He did nothing. She spread her legs for him, lifting them, then quirked an eyebrow in irritation. “Sometime this century?”

In a moment he took her legs in his hands, just as he’d imagined, brushing a thumb over the soft hair behind her knees. She shivered, and he set the head of his cock against her, thrusting in slowly again. She moaned again, more softly this time.

“ _Fuck_ , the tingling…” she said, and threw her head back with a sigh of pleasure. He knew she must be on the point of overstimulation by now, wasn’t sure how much more she could take. The slick tightness of her was incredible, the soft little sounds she made as he rolled his hips with each thrust… he wouldn’t last. He wanted to make it good for her, just once more.

_It’s already good_ , she thought. “Your cock, your hands, _fuck_ —“

He leaned close, on his hands, and kissed her collarbone, seeking out whatever sensitive secrets lay nearby. He found a spot on her neck a few inches below her ear that made her gasp. He brushed along her body with the hand not holding him up, ghosting over her overstimulated nipples until she was making the softest little sounds that—

“This as close to begging as you get?” he murmured.

“Fuck you,” she said with another moan as he set his mouth against her throat.

“This might leave a mark,” he said by way of apology, and didn’t sound sorry at all.

“ _Fuck,”_ she said, and fisted his hair with her hand, holding him to the spot. She was trembling beneath him, so much of his skin touching hers. If he tingled the way she said—

“ _Fuck, fuck_ ,” she breathed, a hand shooting quickly to her cunt.

“So greedy,” he whispered in her ear, careful to roll his hips into her. He knew she didn’t miss the slight stutter at his own pleasure. He was so close, so close and holding himself back, for what he didn’t know, only that he didn’t want this to end.

“How many would this be? Six?”

“My record,” she whispered, her breath stuttering now, and by now he _knew_ that meant she was close, “is much higher than that.”

“I’d like to break it sometime,” he murmured, then chuckled that he’d said that, let alone thought it.

_“Fuck!”_ she said, her hand rubbing wildly at herself.

“Read my mind,” he said. “See what it feels like— the real thing.”

“Fuck—“

“See what it feels like when you come on my cock again. So fucking perfect—“

_Not perfect._

_Just feel it._

He scraped his teeth against her neck and let her slip freely into his mind, let her feel the perfect hot wetness of her working the tip of his cock with every thrust, the feel of her body beneath him, the power she held over him, the overwhelming nearness of her, the thick scent of her arousal choking out anything else—

He drew his hand down her body towards hers, their fingers pressing against her clit as he thrust in and she came with a silent gasp, her body squeezing his cock like a vice and he let out a soft, broken moan, rolling against her in needy thrusts, not realizing his face was streaked with tears.

He stilled, panting, then let himself fall to his back, let his eyes close. He could feel her weight on the bed beside him as she turned again to her side.

She brushed her fingers lightly up his arm, seeming to delight in the touch of him, ghosting them across his chest as if she could draw every secret from his body this way.

He vaguely heard her murmur something, heard Geralt— _remembered_ Geralt— heard the rope fall from him, then felt him crawl onto the bed, heard them kiss. Heard him— Eskel flushed— heard him tongue at Yen, knew he was tasting his seed within her. _Fuck._

Eskel kept his eyes closed, enjoying the scent and weight of them, enjoying soft lightness of Yen’s little fingers dancing across his skin, trying not to think too deeply about how relaxed he was, how available his mind was to her, or how close Geralt was to him, or what any of this meant, or if he’d ever felt this before, or—

Her fingers softly brushed up along the right side of his face. Along his scar, her thumb, pressing softly against the curl of his lip. His eyes flew open.

He saw two matching marks, across her wrist.

He could feel her heart beating in her chest, it was so loud. He looked into her eyes and saw a fragment of her, like a shard of broken mirror. A violet eye studying him closely, ready to fight or flee.

Her fingers were still on his cheek; gentle and soft.

He breathed and kissed her wrist as he looked into that fragment, thinking as loudly as he could.


End file.
